


We're Made Out Of Blood And Rust

by photomoto



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-17
Updated: 2012-03-17
Packaged: 2017-11-02 02:02:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/363780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/photomoto/pseuds/photomoto
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I don't know why I'm still afraid, if you weren't real I would make you up."</p>
            </blockquote>





	We're Made Out Of Blood And Rust

Sherlock had always been a strange man. But Lestrade had always tolerated it because he needed him. And Lestrade knew when to put his pride aside to save a life or solve a crime. That's why when Sherlock showed up at the crime scene talking aloud, Lestrade didn't think anything of it.

Mycroft understood that his brother was strange. He understood that he needed to be protected, and ensured that protection despite Sherlock's protests. When Sherlock rented a flat that he had previously been unable to afford by himself, Mycroft paid the difference, assuming that Sherlock knew something he didn't.

A soft spot started growing in Mrs. Hudson's heart started growing the minute she met Sherlock Holmes, and it never stopped. So when he shot holes through her walls, she never complained. Nor did she complain when he laughed to himself in the foyer, or yelled loudly as if arguing with someone upstairs.

Sherlock was happy. He had always thought of that word as unimportant and irrelevant in context of himself, but here he was; happy. Except now something had gone wrong. Sherlock knew he shouldn't have snapped at John like that (everyone had stared, which John taught him was "a bit not good") but he was upset. Didn't John see that? Sherlock found John in the cemetery and apologized. "I don't have friends." Sherlock paused to take a breath, admitting this aloud almost seemed like blasphemy. "I only have one." John continued walking.

Lestrade stood inside the pub looking at Sherlock dubiously. He appeared to be pleading, imploring and apologizing to someone, until it was cut short. "You? What are you doing here?"

Molly Hooper had understood what was happening before anyone else did. But she kept it to herself. That's why she was torn when Sherlock came to her for help. "If I wasn't everything you thought I was. I thought I was. Would you still want to help me?" It only took one second for her to decide, and their plan was started.

Sherlock knew he had to send John away. Knew he had to protect him. "Alone protects me" Sherlock spit out, knowing the exact pain they would cause. "No, friends protect you." Sherlock didn't watch him go.

Molly understood. She understood it all so clearly now. Sherlock was protecting John. Sherlock was protecting everyone. And most importantly Sherlock thought he was breaking someone's heart in the process. Molly knew that, to Sherlock, a grieving John Watson was better than a dead one.

Sherlock stood on top of the building, with the phone to his ear and his eyes on John. "This is my note." He said as he prepared his speech. He knew that he was leaving John. He knew it would break John's heart just as much as Sherlock's own.

When Lestrade found Sherlock's phone on the roof, his last phone call was to a number labeled "John Watson". Upon a trace of that number Lestrade found it was to a phone number registered to Sherlock Holmes; filled with voice mails and text messages that had never been answered.


End file.
